


A Flat of Opportunity

by WingedFlame



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Rating May Change, everyone else just kind of gets on with things, mainly courf/jehan, with the budding arguments of e/R thrown in
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-03 12:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingedFlame/pseuds/WingedFlame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When 'The Friends of the ABC & Friends' all pull straws to decide who they'll be living with, excluding those already in relationships, they soon realise that the power of the straws is something even they can't control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

A small apartment building is hidden amongst the busy streets of London; surrounded by shops, cafes, offices and a lot of other people. Above the entrance used to be a sign of the official name of the block of flats, but a long banner has now crudely been pasted over it with the phrase 'Les Amis de l'ABC', each word a different colour. But even that sign had been defaced with a crudely scribbled '& Friends' in the corner, which meant the sign now read 'The Friends of the ABC & Friends', which annoyed some of the inhabitants more than others.

There are only three floors, but the ground floor doesn't have anyone living on it, for the sole fact it's their combined storage for mail and bicycles. There's three all crammed under the stairs; a blue bike with a brown wicker basket at the front adorned with flowers for Jehan, a mud covered red one belonging to Enjolras, and the third black bicycle, sparkling but regularly used, owned by Cosette. Aside from the cramped conditions under the stairs, the rest of the entrance floor was rather well maintained: this was unless the post had just been delivered, and who was up first to sort through all the junk mail and put all the envelopes in the right slots.

Since they all knew each other, having managed to find the landlord of the under-developed complex and strike a complete deal with him, the post could just be taken and slotted under everyone's doors, or even be given to them face to face, but being woken up earlier than expected just to be given a bill had started to dwell on some of the late sleepers.

Each of the next two floors has three flats each: one on each side of the corridor and the third at the opposite end of the single staircase. This gave them all a little bit of privacy, as well as the most space in the otherwise cramped building. The way they had decided who was going in which room, excluding the love-birds Marius and Cosette as well as Bossuet and Joly, who needed each other to firstly to keep checks on Bossuet's unlucky streak and secondly for Joly's hypochondriac qualities to be managed twenty-four hours a day, had been decided with straws. 

There had been different emotions about most of the pairings when they had come up: Enjolras was indifferent to Grantaire as usual, but the smile that had come on the lesser's face was undeniable; Bahorel and Feuilly had high-fived, or, at least attempted to, and managed to end up awkwardly fist-bumping instead; Eponine and Combeferre had shrugged and shook hands, knowing that they probably wouldn't see much of each other, therefore leaving Jehan and Courfeyrac for the last room with an amicable squeeze of, "Hello, new room-mate," to leave Jehan blushing at nothing, as always.

Marius and Cosette were the couple of the first floor, whilst Bossuet and Joly, as well as their often long-term guest Musichetta, took the position on the second. Enjolras had taken another first floor room without giving Grantaire much of a chance, and Courfeyrac had immediately volunteered himself and Jehan for the last place on that floor. Jehan had initially been confused, but was back up to Courf's level of knowledge with a nudge and a wink.

That left a somewhat disgruntled Eponine to grumble upstairs, having not wanted to have to walk up so many stairs after being out all day, but her room-mate hadn't fussed. Bahorel and Feuilly equally weren't bothered either, only thinking about having to take fewer shopping trips so that they wouldn't have to be trekking up and down the stairs as much.

Of course, all of this had happened back in the colder months of the year before, and now it was just turning to the hotter days of late spring. Then again, this was London, and it was cold most of the time, but the traditional week of warmth was just around the bend, so the drafty, usually empty, corridors were starting to fill up with more conversation to keep cool, and also to wreck havoc.


	2. Hyde's Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The single week of summer has begun, and the plans to soak up every second of the rare sunshine are in Courfeyrac's hands.

When sunshine hits London, the first thing everyone checks is the weather report. Next, they check outside of their windows to see if the report is right. If both of these things match up, and there are no clouds for miles around, then the week of summer has begun.

Courfeyrac is the first person to notice, mostly because his internal heat plus the surrounding heat of the room has gotten too much for him; he's lying in only a pair of his designated 'pyjama' boxers, and his duvet has been pushed off the bed entirely. Although he was usually warm enough at night, regardless of the level of central heating in their flat, this heat was sticky and unbearable. Just about managing to slide out of bed, scratching at his chest (being somewhat surprised with how sweaty he was when the hand slid over his stomach) and pressing his forehead against the window after pushing curtains aside. Since his bedroom window was on the front of apartment building, the sight of opening shops and people striding to get to their Saturday morning jobs on time was what greeted him, but that was only after squinting to block out the already beaming sunshine.

"Summer?" He groaned, pushing himself away from the window and letting everything sink in. The smile that grew on his face was just as bright as the sun that had just blinded him. Running to the door of his room, suddenly full of energy as if he was a plant that had just gone through some essential photosynthesis, Courfeyrac flung the door open to find a less than surprised Jehan stood in the kitchen with a glass of orange juice. "Summer!"

"Morning, Courf," the blonde yawned, pressing the cold glass against his pink cheeks to try and stop them from turning even redder. Despite the number of times he had seen Courfeyrac in his underwear by now, easily slipping into a four digit figure, the easily flustered poet blushed every time. Every god-damned time.

"It's summer!"

"I know, Courf," Jehan stretched, moving to sit at their small breakfast table and flick through the book of poetry he had left there last night. "Remember to check the flow chart before you do anything."

"If it'll please you, I will," Courf pouted, waving his hand in a silent goodbye, slipping back into his bedroom after giving the paper on their front door a quick glance.

Written in Jehan's effeminate handwriting, decorated with swirls and flowers of many colours, a flowchart was sellotaped to the door, since the occasional draft they got with the slamming of doors from across the hall kept blowing the essential chart off when it had been stuck up with bluetack. The starting point, 'Are you wearing a shirt?', was in large, red letters, and split into a pink 'Yes' and darker red 'No' side. The yes just pointed to a smiley face, but the no arrow surrounded the rule 'You can't leave the apartment block!' in unusually raggedy points. Next on the chart, 'Are you wearing any jeans?' followed a similar pattern, but the rule with this time changed to 'You can't leave this floor!'. If this wasn't specific enough, there was even a 'Are you wearing any underwear?' question, and the rule was so large it was obvious that Jehan had to use a second sheet of paper: 'Get back into your room and put some on!'. This was mainly Marius' suggestion, having had to comfort Cosette the first time she saw Courfeyrac in just his underwear trying to collect the post in the middle of winter. She would have been okay if they didn't have such a horrible stain, or the fact that there was a hole where there should never be a hole.

"Make sure you're dressed for Hyde," Courf informed Jehan less than five minutes later, now sporting a white tank-top, his shoulders covered with a black dress shirt, sleeves rolled to over the elbows. Hawaiian shorts brushed against his knees as he started to dust off the flip-flops, buried under the warm winter shoes they had been used to for the past few months. "I'm going to rally the troops."

"Today? But don't Eponine and Combeferre have work?"

"Well, they can watch us all have fun, everyone else is off," Courfeyrac shrugged, slipping into the sandals and wriggling his toes in glee.

"Courf, they work at the Lido, they won't actually be able to see us-"

"They can come after their shifts, I'm off!" Courfeyrac wrapped up the conversation and headed out of the door, creating his own little storm as he usually did.

Jehan just melted into a little puddle of embarrassment, his hand writing poetry of it's own accord again.

"Doctor, doctor, someone get me to the ER~" The brunette sang as fists pummelled on the door opposite theirs, rocking on the balls of his feet as the summery spirit was managing to shine through the window at the end of the corridor, probably leaking from the stairwell that was bringing it from downstairs. The sight of a just-awoken Grantaire with a lit cigarette between his slightly parted lips was what greeted him when the door finally opened a few minutes later, but it didn't dampen his spirits.

"We're going to Hyde Park today, you and Enjolras gonna come with?"

"We were going anyway," Grantaire groaned, rubbing his eyes with the back of one hand whilst two fingers of his other hand cradled the half-smoked cig. "He's out on the corner again."

"Oh, I see," Courf beamed, his lips changing to reveal a more planning smirk. "Handing out flyers are we? Or will you be stood behind him, listening ever so intently to his speech?"

"Fuck off," he groaned, slipping back into the room and slamming the door.

"We'll see you there then!"

"Bullying Grantaire already, Courf?" Marius's calm voice rose up after the echo of the slam had faded, and Courfeyrac was even more surprised with the fact that the pair coming out of their room already looked ready to go somewhere. Marius was only overdressed with the fact the t-shirt had the blocked outlines of a collar and tie, but his three-quarter length black shorts were being held up with a plain dress belt. Cosette was looking as effortless as ever, her long hair pulled into a one messy bun, pinned and secured with what Courfeyrac could only guess was magic, and a mid-length, somewhat lacy, blue dress.

"It's his fault," the other male shrugged, raising his eyebrows at the blonde who gave a weak, apologetic smile in return. They might have tried, but Jehan and Marius were just hopeless cases when it came to fashion. "Anyhow, where are you two off to?"

"Well, we thought we'd grab a little bit of the summer sunshine whilst it was around, so we're going to grab a spot at Hyde before it gets too busy," Cosette explained, the smile that brought a lot of light to everyone in the group's day, but mostly just reduced Marius to a mushy core.

"Oh, so great minds do think alike!"

"Jehan ordered you to make the rounds?"

"Ha ha, Marius. No, I thought we could all go there and enjoy the sun ourselves. But if you two are volunteering to grab a spot, that'd be brilliant."

"Actually we-"

"Sounds like a great idea, Courfeyrac," Cosette interrupted her boyfriend with a jab to his ribs with her petite elbow. "We'll see you all then, won't we?"

"S-Sure," Marius stuttered, taking hold of her hand and opening the door out into the still somehow cold stairwell. Courfeyrac followed them, but headed up to the next flight as they went down to leave, and hopefully sort out the post.

Heading into the neater of the two lived in floors, Courfeyrac played an internal game of 'eenie, meenie, minie, moe' to decide where to go first, since the two workers would have already been off to serve the breakfast menu. They hadn't initially worked in the same place, but Eponine had helped Comfebre out when his previous contract had run out after Christmas, and had ended up on similar shifts. Courf's finger ended up pointing to the door at the end of the corridor, smiling as he folded it back into his palm to form a fist for knocking. It didn't take as long as Grantaire took to answer, but the only surprise was that a towel covered Musichetta was the one on the other side. Not a surprise to see her, just a surprise to see her... wet.

"G'morning, Courfeyrac," she smiled, leaning against the frame of the door. "Rare to see you up here so early. What's up?"

"We're all going to Hyde later, think you could get the other two in on it?"

"Joly will need to pack, but we should be ready in an hour," she nodded, looking back as they both heard pattering of feet. Bossuet was holding up two shirts to Joly, obviously trying to maximise the ratio between protection and not sweating to death. Of course, Joly wanted him to be completely covered, and still have sun-cream on as well, since Bossuet was well known for managing to burn just by walking past a window on a sunny day.

"I'll let you all get on with it, and... well, put on some more clothes," Courfeyrac chuckled, giving a quick wave before dashing down and across to go bother Bahorel and Feuilly. There was nothing wrong with a semi-naked woman dripping wet in a rather short towel, but the fact that his mind had wandered off to that one time he'd accidentally caught Jehan sneaking from the bathroom back to his own room (since, although Courfeyrac wandered around semi-naked half of the time, Jehan had a few more boundaries) had left the brunette a little on edge. Now was not the time to be thinking about things like that.

Unfortunately, even though he knocked on Feuilly's door for a good five minutes, neither he nor Bahorel came to the door. They weren't known for getting up this early, so were probably so wrapped up in their own little worlds to bother answering the door. Courf eventually gave up, deciding to send them both a warning text and heading down the stairs. If they weren't up in ten minutes, then he was going to ring them: he knew that the ringtone that Bahorel had for him was one of the loudest, since occasions like these happened all too often, so if that didn't wake them up then nothing would.

"Everyone coming?" Jehan looked up with a smile as Courfeyrac skipped back into their apartment. The only way he could tell that the poet had actually moved in the time he had been gone was the drastic change in clothes: Jehan was wearing two layers, despite the weather, but the long sleeved shirt was thin and seemed to be made of see-through, white flowery lace, and the yellow tank-top that was hanging over it was just that little bit too baggy; thankfully his shorts seemed to fit, but they were a jarring green colour, and his sandals were brown. The thought that came into Courfeyrac's mind was that of a blooming flower, but he knew that Jehan didn't think as much about his clothes. If it was a description in poetry, then it would have been deliberate and planned.

"The two lovebirds were already going, so they're going to snag us a spot, and the lovers across the hallway were going as well, but E's going to be on the corner as usual," Courfeyrac sighed, wandering into his room to grab his wallet to put with his other possessions in the depths of his pockets.

"E and R aren't lovers-"

" _Yet_."

"Y-Yes, _yet_ ," Jehan mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he grabbed his orange (just to add another bright colour to the collection) shoulder bag and stood up. "Are we going now?"

"The ménage à trois upstairs needs an hour to get ready, as usual," Courfeyrac sighed, falling over the back of one of the sofas in their small front room to land face first into a pillow, he turned over, looking up at the ceiling before the view was blocked by something brighter than the sun.

"What are we going to do whilst we wait then?"

"I have to ring the heavy sleepers upstairs in five, and if they don't pick up we can spend the next hour throwing things at their window."

"Bossuet nearly killed us last time that happened," Jehan chuckled, sitting on the back of the sofa and watching as Courfeyrac slowly sat up to get comfortable.

"He threw a pillow down at us, I hardly call that-" Courfeyrac started, but felt his phone vibrate in his hand. "Oh, speak of devil. They'll be up and ready in an hour too."

"Now we need a new plan," Jehan stretched.

"TV?"

"Sounds good to me," the blonde shrugged, moving from the back and flicking the box in the corner of their room on. "Budge up a little then."

"There's a whole other sofa you could sit on," Courfeyrac whined, stretching out his legs in protest.

"This one's better for seeing the television on though," Jehan retorted, standing in-front of the screen with hands on his hips.

"You make a better door than a window."

"Then I'm sitting down," he decided, turning around to sit on Courfeyrac's feet but being disappointed when they ended up on his lap instead.

Over the past few months, even though he could still be quite shy, the quiet man had opened up a little bit to Courfeyrac, possibly because the louder of the two had rubbed off on him in some way. Most of them had hoped that it would be the other way around, but if anything he was louder than ever. But still, Jehan had not shown as much of this new self around the other members of the group. This both made Courfeyrac happy and a little confused. Perhaps this was just a 'room-mate' personality, or perhaps they'd reached the moment they really could be comfortable with one another? Well, the brunette had reached that moment the second they'd finished moving everything in, but Jehan took that little bit longer. It was at least two months before Courfeyrac saw Jehan do some washing, even though he had heard him doing it in the early hours of the morning.

The hour passed rather quickly for the both of them, just relaxing in the almost silence of the room. Neither of them had noticed it go past until there was a knock on their door. Courfeyrac popped up like a jack-in-the-box, causing Jehan to jump and turn red in turn. Even though the heat had started to ramp up once again in the hour they had been relaxing, Jehan missed the warmth of the man's legs over his lap, watching as he bounded over to the door.

The empty spot in his lap turned even hotter when he realised where his gaze had latched itself onto.


	3. Arrival at the Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Courfeyrac picks up Gavroche for the sole purpose of ice-cream, and the group finally get together, but not after a larger pocket of heat at Speaker's Corner.

With everyone finally ready, the group could finally leave. It was now just going eleven, but they all knew that they had to get to the park before the lunchtime rush, for fear of any tourists taking all the good spots. Luckily, Marius had sent Courfeyrac a picture of the spot they had taken, as well as a little comment about 'ruining his date plans', but just knowing that they had a decent spot (with some shade, for Joly would worry about them all getting too much sun otherwise) was a relief.

Seeing as they only lived a fifteen minute walk away in Queensway, and wanted to cut out the horror stories of people passing out in the underground, the group of them formed a convoy and headed down the gradually bustling street to their 'local' park. Their walk wasn't too eventful, but Joly kept ciphering off each person in turn and supplying them with small bottles of sun cream, after-sun, as well as a larger bottle of water. Apart from Jehan and Musichetta, the only two carrying bags, the bottles ended up back in Joly's bag since Bossuet was holding it open for him most of the time. He quietly apologised, slipping them back into the bag without Joly noticing. There was a difference between being under-prepared and being over-prepared, and Joly couldn't even see the line separating the two. The rest of it was filled with idle chit-chat: what they would do at the park, if they were going to bother Eponine and Combeferre, when they were going to 'help' Enjolras on speakers' corner, as well as plans for lunch.

Everyone always wanted something different, but there was just one general rule in the group to go by: the cheaper it was, the better. Enjolras always added 'no large corporations' to this, but there were times when all someone had the money for was something off the pound saver menu at McDonalds, and trying to eat it made them become a spy trying to cover up their tracks. If their revolutionary leader so much as caught a scent of the over-salted fries, the pre-prepared, twenty-eight minute speech about how wrong commercialisation was rolled out. The 'no large corporation' rule pretty much applied to everything: drinks, clothes, even phones; he'd ranted at Combeferre for buying an iPhone 4 on release day for the entire week, but settled down to a simmer when the rest of the group eventually followed suit. He said there was nothing wrong with his Nokia 3210, lasting him all those years, yet never saw the hypocrisy when he asked Grantaire for directions off of his Blackberry.

Seeing as they'd walked to the entrance rather than getting a bus, therefore saving money on transport, they all had a bit more spare change than they usually did when they spontaneously decided to go places, and decided on getting a few bits and pieces from the coffee shop outside Queensway's tube station. At least, that was the plan until Courfeyrac had noticed Gavroche inside of the Italian ice-cream parlour next door and insisted that they all went to say hello. They all followed, but all knew that it was really because the brunette had wanted an excuse to buy ice-cream. It was a good idea, since the warmth of the coffee shop had put them off entering just long enough for Eponine's brother to be spotted looking at all the cool flavours in the one next door, but not something they would have brought up individually.

Ice-creams of various colours and heights were bought, Gavroche being able to get away with having the biggest of them all and already somewhat regretting having it in a tub rather than a waffle cone like Courfeyrac had. Once they crossed the road, they were technically in the park, but first port of call was going to find Marius and Cosette, who where situated ideally just a few moments away from where the two workers would be getting off their shifts, but due to the immense size of the park, they were still fifteen minutes away from their first objective. Joly kept looking at Bossuet to make sure he was staying in the shade, but Musichetta eventually put him to ease by fishing out a baseball cap from Joly's bag and fashioning it over Bossuet's already rather warm bald head. Courfeyrac and Gavroche were leading the way, both of them behaving in a mostly sensible manner whilst they had ice-cream, the rest of them all mixing into two different sets of three every now and again as the topics chopped and changed. Jehan often found himself at the back, trying not to sulk at Gavroche's appearance, yet if someone told him to hurry up he'd explain that he'd had some form of inspiration.

Five minutes after Gavroche started complaining that he was hungry, having finished his ice-cream about two minutes before that, the already sweaty group eventually collapsed in the shade of the tree that Marius and Cosette had claimed as their own nearly two hours ago.

"It's too hot," Feuilly complained, resting his back against the tree and stretching for a large leaf which he immediately fashioned into a make-shift fan to cool himself down. "We're not moving again."

"You still have to go and get Enjolras and Grantaire," Marius pointed out, taking a few mouthfuls from the bottle of water that was being passed around. "Ponine and Combeferre don't know we're here yet either."

"Well, we don't all need to go if we're staying here for the day," Joly pointed out, the smile that they were as familiar with as his worried look bringing some ease to the group as usual.

"I was going to come see my Sis today," Gavroche smiled, having perked up with the packet of crisps Bahorel had sacrificed from his collection.

"I'll go with him to fetch them," Cosette smiled, standing up and offering her hand up to the youngest of the group, who took it with a smirk to Marius. The brunette could feel anger rising in him at the look, but soon fell into a state of silence as he thought about his actions: had he really just got angry with a nine-year-old for attempting to steal his girlfriend away?

"Awesome," Courfeyrac beamed, looking to Jehan who appeared to be in his own little world as always. "We'll go grab our corridor neighbours then. I want to be out in the sunshine, and this little flower needs to grow some more."

"Huh?" Jehan looked up as Feuilly nudged him with tip-toes, springing to his feet as Courfeyrac did. He didn't quite know what was going on, but being grabbed by the elbow and pulled away from the group had brought a smile back to his face.

"We're going to grab the Disaster Twins," Courfeyrac chuckled, leading them away from the group and on yet another fifteen minute walk.

The beginning of their time alone from the group was pretty quiet. Jehan had already left the material world and gone off into his Romantic heaven as they walked, only coming back down to Earth when Courfeyrac had to grab his shoulders and steer him back onto the right path.

"The heat's not getting to you, is it?" The brunette worried, running a hand through the slightly curly locks to let some more sweat drip down from under the thickness of it. Not entirely attractive sounding, but the way that he seemed to shine had once again caused Jehan to wander off into the clouds, eyes glossing over for a moment. "Oh god, please don't die on me, we're five minutes away from Joly and I didn't bring any water-"

"I'm fine, Courf," Jehan eventually resurfaced, noticing that the glowing figure had darkened in worry. The blonde pulled out the bottle of water that was handed out to him before and took a few mouthfuls, trying to ease Courfeyrac from his now obvious nerves. "What do you think Enjolras will be talking about today?" He wanted to get out of the silence, unable to disappear into his own mind again, but also needed to make sure Courfeyrac wouldn't worry about him too much, just as he did with all his friends.

"Dunno," he shrugged, seemingly having gotten over it already, but this was Courfeyrac; he was good at keeping things to himself. "I didn't see any piles of leaflets or big posters on their coffee table, so it might just be him pointing out everything that's wrong with the people who walk past again."

"If that's the case, then he's probably already been talked down by the police," Jehan giggled, playing with a few loose strands in the middle of his large, fishtail plait.

"And that's the third person I've seen with a Starbucks cup in the past three minutes. The nearest Starbucks is five minutes away from here, and Hyde Park has two perfectly good places to get drinks!"

Enjolras' voice could be heard before they could even see him, and the famous corner wasn't that crowded yet. Most likely because they were all just trying to avoid the waistcoat wearing man shouting at them for their choice of clothes, but also because of a gloomy looking Grantaire smoking in the background.

"Looks like R's having the time of his life," Courfeyrac rolled his eyes, a playful smirk spreading across his lips. "Should we save him?"

"We need to bring them both back."

"Well, to save Grantaire, we need to sabotage Enjolras."

"Oh," Jehan blinked, eventually finding himself up-to-date with Courfeyrac's inner plan. "The police officer is over there, do you need me to go?"

"You look like you get more easily offended, no offence."

"None taken," Jehan sighed, although he did throw his heavy plait over his other shoulder with a slight colour over his darkening freckles from their exposure in the sun. "Just make sure than Enjolras doesn't see me, because I don't think I could take his anger afterwards."

"Don't worry, wouldn't subject you to that," Courfeyrac winked, wandering off as a large group of people started to amble past, and leaving Jehan to work up the courage he needed.

It took a little longer because of the wink, but eventually the plan started to roll into action: Jehan wandered over to the officer moderating the speaker's speech, awkwardly pulling at his hair to look slightly distressed and made his intentions of being offended rather clear. Although the police didn't often step in, if they had any reports of the public feeling uncomfortable or hearing any profanity then they would politely ask the speaker to move on. Enjolras wasn't one to step down first time, demanding that he find out who he had apparently offended, but Grantaire had brought up the time that he was almost arrested for continuing his speech regardless and the anger had shifted from the police officer onto the still smoking male.

"If all you're going to do is smoke, then I don't know why you came with me," the blonde started, storming from the corner with Grantaire in tow. "You could have easily just gone along to the summer picnic with the others, seeing as they never want to do anything for me now-a-days."

"I turn up to everything that you protest about, and I don't even give a shit about half of it," Grantaire growled under his breath, not wanting to make so much of a scene in public. He hadn't yet spotted Jehan or Courfeyrac, but the two had almost given themselves away before noting that a typical argument was about to start. They could have prevented it at this early stage, but Enjolras took it into uncomfortable territory.

"Then don't fucking turn up! At least the other members take heed to what I say and, let me guess, you're smoking some big named brand again?"

"You can't even advertise cigarettes any more, but you wouldn't know because you avoid advertisement as if it was death looming over you."

"The amount of death that comes from the products advertised is enough-"

"Can you not stop preaching for one minute? Can we just go and sit with Marius and Cosette and everyone else and actually enjoy the one week of sunshine we get in the year?"

"I'm too busy-"

"Too busy to care about your own friends? To care about your own room-mate?"

"I'm too busy to handle you," Enjolras finally stated, ending the conversation with a steely glare. Grantaire stubbed out his cigarette at the nearest bin, trying to calm himself down and also trying not to do this with another cig. "I'm ringing Courfeyrac and asking where they are."

"Oh thank everything my phone is on silent," Courfeyrac whispered, grabbing Jehan's elbow again and managing to sneak them both away from the proximity of the still simmering argument and out of earshot.

"Courf, where are you?"

"My, don't we sound angry?"

"I'm not in the mood. Where are you?"

"Me and Jehan are at the corner. Where are you?"

"We were at the corner, but someone got pissy as usual but ran off before I could confront them."

"Well, there are some people in this world who don't understand your radical views."

"Yes, I know. Anyway, I can see Jehan, we'll be there in a moment."

How he could see Jehan was a mystery, seeing as of the two the blonde was the shorter, but when the four of them eventually got together, Courfeyrac was trying to cheer everyone up - something he was good at as the centre of the group. Jehan kept quiet as Courfeyrac made joke after joke, trying to ease the obvious tension in the air, but it was only when they arrived back at the group at around about noon that they finally settled down.


	4. Share a Mug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unaware of everyone's plans, Eponine and Combeferre take a few minutes to relax after work and decide what to do with the rest of their day. But, of course, things never go according to plan in this group of friends.

Whilst tensions were rising in one corner of the park, there was a different set of emotions brewing in the centre of it. Eponine and Combeferre had been at the Lido cafe for the breakfast shift, and had just finished help tidy up and prepare for the lunchtime rush. They were off for the rest of the day, and still unaware of the rest of their groups plan, so were deciding what to do with the warm day ahead of them over coffee.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Combeferre asked, the strong, now half-drained, double espresso that he always ordered cradled in both hands.

"Not until tonight," Eponine replied, a finger running around the edge of her cup of mocha, before she perked up with a slight laugh. "Oh, wait, I quit the beach place. I've got an interview for Ukai tonight."

"So if you get the job, which you usually do, you'll be working around the corner from The Porchester, which you also work at."

"Saves money on the commute," she shrugged, picking up her mug and looking down into it as she drank, trying not to look at her companion too much. Combeferre noticed this, as he always noticed everything, but he stayed quiet.

It was times like these when the decision they had made to take the step to become 'more than friends' weighed on his mind. It wasn't as if he had suggested it spontaneously, having taken the fact they had been paired together as room-mates as a higher sign to move forward; even then, it had taken until Eponine's kindness at Christmas for him to bring the subject of their undefined relationship up. He didn't often raise his voice, but when she had denied that there were no ulterior motives behind her offer of work, he couldn't take much more. Of course, there wasn't in the end, but in the course of getting his views of their living and emotional arrangements out into the blue, they'd ended up making out for the third time in as many months; but not before they'd finally gotten everything in order.

"Keeps you close too," Combeferre smiled, downing the rest of his drink and pushing it to one side. He waited until Eponine put down her drink once more, clasping her hands around the almost empty mug with a tender touch of his own. "The streets are never safe at the times you stay out to."

"I can look after myself," Eponine scoffed, but did not swat the comforting hands off.

"I know you can, but that doesn't mean there isn't anyone who doesn't worry about you. Myself at the top of that list."

"Actually, I think Joly would be there," the brunette chuckled, catching herself blushing in the midst of Combeferre's chocolate brown eyes. It was only a fleeting glance, for the next thing she knew they were closed and his lips were almost against hers. She lent forward, feeling the sincerity and honest emotions behind them, as she always did before pulling away with a more relaxed smile.

"I suppose you're right," he whispered, a smile mirrored on his own as he moved in for another kiss.

"Eponine, what on Earth is going on here?" Cosette's voice sent bolts like lightning down the spines of the now red-faced couple in the corner of the cafe.

"C-Cosette, what are you doing here?" Eponine retaliated with a question of her own, now pushing Combeferre's hands off as she stood up. Gavroche hadn't said anything about the situation, but was staring down the now uncomfortable looking man.

"We're all meeting in the park to take advantage of the good weather, but it seems you're already here on a date with none other than our dear guide!" The blonde was practically beaming with delight, eyes unable to get any wider and smile any brighter.

"It's not a date, we just finished work," she started to explain herself, swallowing down the nerves from being discovered earlier than either of them had wanted. There was a reason their trial relationship was a secret.

"And just so happened to be about to kiss him?"

"Urgh, doing such things in public is gross," Gavroche interjected, folding his arms and standing face to face with the man who had his grubby hands on his sister.

Making sure that Eponine and Cosette were gossiping about the situation, overhearing something about a bet with Musichetta, the young boy made sure that he had Combeferre's full attention. Mainly by standing even closer so that their noses were almost touching, but also grabbing at the plain white t-shirt's crew neck and tugging it close in his fist.

"Gavroche-"

"If you do anything to make her cry, and I mean _anything_ , then you'll pay for it," the child warned him, but the adult had to stifle a laugh as a single finger made its way across Gavroche's throat to signify a serious threat. If he was an older brother, then Combeferre would probably take it seriously, but being threatened by someone not even half his own height was laughable.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied seriously, able to stare Gavroche out as his shirt was let go of. "Where are the others?"

"Under the big tree not far from here," the other replied, somewhat begrudgingly, backing off so the taller could stand. "Will you two be coming?"

"It depends. Can you keep a secret?"

"It depends," Gavroche repeated, a cunning little smile forming on his lips.

"Ice-cream?"

"I can keep any secret you tell me."

With Gavroche sated with yet another large serving of ice-cream and Cosette promising under an oath of friendship that she wouldn't tell, Eponine and Combeferre made the decision to join the rest of the group. It wasn't often that Eponine had the afternoon off, especially with the possibility of it being a busy day, so at least they could spend it together as a group. There were plenty of other times for the two of them to be alone anyway; they did live together, after all.

They didn't stay much longer at the cafe, so the four of them returned before Courfeyrac and the others had even thought about making a return journey. Gavroche had run to Feuilly to gloat about getting another dosage of ice-cream, but was consequentially pulled into a headlock and asked for the details of how, where and why. Gavroche would not give anything away, but eyes weren't on the wrestling pair.

"Cosette, something's on your mind," Marius worried, standing up and going to her side as Eponine and Combeferre took a place in the half-empty circle in the shade of the tree. "What's wrong?"

"Dear Marius," Cosette laughed, placing a hand on his arm and rubbing it to try and calm him down. "There's nothing wrong, I'm fine."

"No, he's right," Musichetta sat up, having had her head in Bossuet's lap, and attempted to guess. "You're hiding something. Spill."

"I accidentally ripped someone's dress when I was coming out of the bathroom in the cafe!" Cosette burst in response, breathing heavily as she looked towards Eponine with a raised eyebrow: the universal silent sign for "A little help?"

"Oh," Eponine blinked, handfuls of hair in both hand as she was in the middle of tying it into a high ponytail. "Yeah, it's true. It was pretty funny actually, watching her try to pay for the repairs, but being even more surprised when the woman just ripped it even more to make it shorter."

"Exactly," Cosette smiled, feeling much more relaxed. Everyone seemed to accept this story, but Musichetta was having none of it. To quieten her, the blonde bee-lined over and took a five pound note from her purse. No words were spoken, only excited glances between Eponine and Combeferre and silent excitement.

Nothing more exciting happened in the ten minutes they all waited for the completion of their group: Joly produced a frisbee from the giant rucksack, which sparked a spontaneous running around session for everyone bar Eponine and Musichetta who were discussing how the relationship had gotten to where it was and then where it was going after that. Although they were all supposed to be in the prime of their lives, the only two who weren't groaning, sweating and gasping for breath after five minutes of the playful exercise were Gavroche and, surprisingly after a hectic 6 hour shift, Combeferre. A round of water, a quick check up on everyone's sun cream status (especially Bossuet, who appeared to already burning and peeling on his arms) and a minute to catch their breath, the group of friends were ready to get back into the action.

Just as the frisbee was thrown again for the next round, it landed at Enjolras' feet.

Then promptly stepped on it, snapping the fragile plastic disk in half.


	5. Competitive Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras and Combeferre talk about the argument with Grantaire, and everyone else tires themselves out playing with a giant, inflatable beach-ball.

Even though he had essentially burst into the group and ruined all the fun they were previously having, Enjolras wasn't going to be sticking around for the aftermath. He made a bee-line for Combeferre, grabbing him in a similar fashion to Gavroche, but taking up more of the shirt in his fist so that part of his toned stomach was on show, before being taken away from the almost thoroughly confused group. Grantaire tried to ignore this, sitting down cross-legged between Feuilly and Bahorel and slotting himself into whatever conversation they were having. Jehan and Courfeyrac settled in the last remaining spaces; Jehan nearer Cosette and Marius, Courfeyrac towards Eponine and Gavroche.

"Fight?" Eponine started, trying to settle her sugar-filled brother down long enough to put some more sun-cream on.

"Yeah," Courfeyrac replied with a shrug.

"How big?"

"I'd say a one point five on the E'n'Richter scale."

"Didn't last too long then."

"Looks like the after-shock won't be too bad either."

The group's scale for Enjolras and Grantaire's arguments was something that had started off as a joke, but had eventually become a widely accepted measurement of how badly they had fought. Of course, not all the fights were initially overheard, but they could guess their severity by the way the two acted in the aftermath. The worse one ever recorded, having actually been recorded by accident as Cosette was trying out her new microphone, was a seven: Enjolras had thrown his room-mate out into the corridor and refused to let him back in by making a makeshift barricade in front of the door. Even in the muffled recording that everyone demanded to listen to, for the purposes of making sure they didn't bring up any subjects that would set them off again, no-one really knew what started it. Combeferre's name was mentioned the most, Courfeyrac's a close second, so they decided to stay out of the leader's way for the two week shockwave period that followed. A little difficult, since Grantaire went to crash on Feuilly and Bahorel's sofa for the first week, but eventually the two stabilised and settled to a healthy zero. Or, at least, as close to zero as the two could get.

Combeferre had almost let the existence of the scale slip to Enjolras during a talk similar to the one they were currently having, saying that it was only a 'two' and that things would get back to normal quickly, but had managed to cover it up. In his defence, their leader had woken him up an hour after he'd finally gotten home from work and crashed on the sofa, so the slight lapse in concentration was forgiven. This time, the second-in-command was awake, and could give better advice. Also known as the same advice he gives every time, just said in a different order.

"You know we're all here for you," Combeferre smiled slightly, placing a hand on the un-flinching blonde as they stopped by the side of the large mass of water. "No-one could rival your passion, yes, but inside we do all have that drive. There's a reason you're at the top. You inspire everyone."

"I don't get through to Grantaire because he never listens."

"Who's always there for you?"

"You are."

"Apart from me," the brunette sighed, folding his arms. Enjolras was always stubborn at first, but there wasn't as much anger as usual. Less than a two on the scale, he'd assume.

"Grantaire," he finally replied, begrudgingly. It was true: out of all of them, Enjolras' room-mate was probably the least interested in his beliefs, but was always on hand to hand out a flyer or two, even at a midnight rally. Grantaire had his own art work to do, but even when he was black-out drunk or destroying his lungs with two packets of the cheapest cigarettes, the artist was there, like a paint-stain on a pair of Enjolras' favourite figure-hugging jeans.

"Then why are you fed up with him?"

"I get fed up with all of you," Enjolras shrugged, a small smile creeping over his face before reassuringly touching Combeferre's shoulder to let him know that he didn't need to say any more. "Let's head back. I think my cheeks are burning."

"Don't say anything to Joly," Combeferre wanted to say something else, maybe tease the leader just a little bit, but the guide had just diffused the situation and didn't want to make it any worse.

The two eventually made their way back to the rest of the group, finding them in the middle of a makeshift volleyball game. Un-needed layers of clothing stretched out in a line marked where the net would be, whilst four bags (Eponine and Combeferre's work bags on one side, Jehan and Musichetta's on the other) stood as the four corners from which they guestimate if the large beach ball has gone out of the playing field. Jehan was the one that the decision came down to, since the moment that Bossuet got hit in the face by a fast ball from Courfeyrac and had a nosebleed. They tried to tell him that it was just the Eagle's bad luck, but Jehan was having none of it. He knew that Courfeyrac could get competitive, especially if he was playing opposite Musichetta, another well known competitor.

The teams had been rather well split; Courfeyrac, Marius and Eponine were on one side, whilst Musichetta, Cosette and Bahorel were on the other team. Feuilly was a substitute for either team, and whoever he swapped with would then become neutral. Grantaire decided to sit on the other side of the court and help out with Jehan's decisions, which eventually turned into making all the decisions since he started braiding the daisy chains he kept making into his hair. The games themselves were interesting, if not a little frightening, to watch. Every man and woman, despite their teams, was out for themselves. The occasional team play was made, but if someone missed a shot, then even their own team-mates would turn to laugh. It was only when Jehan lent Grantaire a felt-tip and a piece of paper to keep a score on that they started to work together, getting hotter and more agitated with each other.

"What's the score?" Enjolras asked Grantaire, arms folded over his speaker's waistcoat; but they weren't tight, more loose and relaxed. The blonde even had half a smile toying at his lips, trying to show that he wasn't mad anymore.

"Four-all," Grantaire replied, not taking his eyes off the ball. They did catch a glimpse of Enjolras when it went near him, and the only thing the brunette could see was the dazzling smile of his Apollo. It annoyed him for a few moments, but eventually moved to one side of the makeshift line so he could join as a fellow judge.

"Sounds tight."

"Not really, Courf's just slowed down and Chetta's taking advantage."

"I see."

Jehan could see the awkwardness of the conversation between the battling bodies in front of him, but Combeferre had joined the other judging side to let him know how things had gone. The fact that they didn't seem to be arguing straight away once more was a good sign, but they were known to simmer for days on end before the same argument was referenced and a shock-wave was produced.

After people dropped out and the game ended up becoming a sort of badminton match between Courfeyrac and Musichetta, the group started to doze off from the heat of the summer sunshine in little piles of comfort. Jehan had initially started off with his head against the tree bark, but Courfeyrac had seen this and coaxed him to get comfortable on his stomach instead. The tiredness from the heat made the blonde just go along with this, falling asleep the moment his cheek made contact with the surprisingly comfortable torso. With no-one left to play with, Musichetta had made herself a mattress out of Joly and Bossuet and curled up to sleep peacefully, but the two had eventually wrapped themselves lazily around her so that they all lay on the cool grass. Marius let Cosette rest her head on his shoulder, but she had eventually coaxed him to lie down and enjoy the grass, and also so she could pull his arm around her waist and curl comfortably into his side. Feuilly and Bahorel weren't tired, so decided to go and grab some cold drinks for everyone to wake up to, since the water that Joly had brought was almost all gone, and whatever was left of it was warm.

That just left Enjolras and Grantaire. Neither one of them initially wanted to show weakness, playing a few games of squares until the page was practically black with ink. Grantaire could see Enjolras' eyelids dropping every now and again, and couldn't hide his smile.

"You just lost, what's the smile for?"

"You should get some rest. We're not doing any protesting sat here, you don't have to keep yourself awake."

"I have to keep alert," Enjolras grumbled, but proved Grantaire to be right with a long, loud yawn.

"Here," the brunette sighed, taking off his red-chequered shirt to show off a paint splattered black tank-top that had a few large rips in them. He folded it up into a pillow and placed it down for Enjolras, patting it a few times so he would get the idea. He was initially stared at for a few moment, but the tired man gave in and took the hint. His head moved down to the makeshift pillow so fast that Grantaire didn't have quite enough time to move his hand, causing callous fingertips to brush against his room-mate's soft cheeks. Neither of them said anything about this, but Grantaire was glad that Enjolras' eyes were closed.

The next thing Enjolras knew, he had a hand grasping at the back of his waistcoat and the addictive mix of alcohol and cigarettes was much closer than he remembered it being just a moment ago.


	6. Packing Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jehan snaps a few pictures, Eponine worries about Gavroche and the rest try not to get caught in the rain.

Jehan was the first to wake up when Feuilly and Bahorel came back, just about finding the strength to pull himself out of Courfeyrac's loose grip around his waist. It wasn't the physical side that was difficult, but the blonde had been so comfortable in the middle of his dreams (otherwise known as his room-mate's embrace) that he didn't want to move. Even if it wasn't warm out, and even if Jehan was known for having a colour in his cheeks that was as permanent as his darkening freckles, the poet would still be the darkest shade of red he thought he had ever been; especially with Feuilly's comment about all the couples sleeping together. Jehan didn't try to deny things, worrying about protesting too much, but Bahorel still teased him. Or, at least, he did until the sleeping pillow started to wake.

"Leave 'im alone," Courfeyrac grumbled as he sat up; his voice was still a little strained from shouting in the excitement of the game, but deep from the few moments of rest.

"I'm fine, Courf," Jehan almost snapped, shocking all three of them, but he just sank back into himself by holding his knees close to his chest. "I'm thirsty."

"Oh, yeah, drinks," Bahorel blinked, looking into the cool bag they'd bought to try and keep everything cool, and passed Jehan a bottle of orange juice. "Thought we'd get something more interesting than water."

"What'dya get me?" Courfeyrac beamed, his ability to take less than a minute to wake up and function both helpful and annoying, sitting up and moving to a more comfortable cross-legged position.

"Peach ice tea," Feuilly replied, handing over the large bottle to grabbing hands.

"I have the best friends ever."

Jehan eventually apologised to Courfeyrac for the slight snappiness of his earlier comment, but it had been waved off with a smile. Still apologetic about it, Jehan decided that he'd go and take some pictures to calm down for a while. As an avid user of Instagram, the poet usually took photographs of his finished poems so that people would know he'd be putting them on his blog soon, but there were times like these where his friends would be doing something that he knew he'd never see again. The blonde wasn't interested in the threesome pile, nor Cosette holding Marius close to her: there were only two couples he was interested in, and all four of the people would hurt him if they ever found the pictures.

Thankfully, Jehan's profile was private, and no-one else really used the app, so he was safe.

First up were Eponine and Combeferre. Although Cosette, Musichetta and Gavroche were the only three who officially now knew about the relationship, there was something in the protective hold Combeferre had around Eponine's waist whilst deep in their summer nap that told stories Jehan didn't need a close reading of to figure out. He was careful in walking over to them, getting the shot just right before slipping away to his next portrait opportunity whilst editing and uploading the photo.

Grantaire and Enjolras hadn't moved the entire time Jehan was doing this, but the moment that the amateur photographer pressed the shutter button was a moment too late. The resulting picture thankfully didn't turn out blurry, but that was the last thing on Jehan's mind. He locked the screen, making sure that the picture had been saved, and went to grab Enjolras' drink before he got too suspicious.

"Get off," the leader grumbled, shrugging off Grantaire's heavy arm from his back and rubbing at his eyes. The other complied, rolling over onto his back and shading his eyes from the bright light with his entire arm and only grunting in reproach.

"Feuilly got everyone drinks," Jehan smiled at the two as he returned with two different looking bottles. "The water fountains weren't working, so we just bought another bottle of water."

"Fine," Enjolras sighed, taking the water and eying up the suspicious looking bottle Jehan placed into Grantaire's free hand.

"It's just Supermalt," the poet reassured him, standing up properly once more with an earnest smile. "You're not allowed alcohol in the park anyway."

"Which sucks," Grantaire eventually joined the conversation, rolling onto his front and pushing himself up to kneel on the grass whilst opening the energy drink.

"And it's too early," Enjolras remarked under his breath, something which both of the others missed. He smiled in his own little way to try and look innocent, but they just ignored it. Jehan went back off to help give out drinks and help wake everyone up; especially Joly, who would probably complain about being allowed to sleep on the grass, and then worry about all of the diseases he was 'definitely' going to get because of it.

The ordeal of waking everyone up was made easier with the premise of fresh, cold drinks, and also wanting to look at the end result of Jehan's candid photographs. The one featuring Enjolras and Grantaire had turned out much better than if they had both been lying together: the light had caught the blonde's hair as he sat up slightly, causing him to develop much brighter than the deep brown shades of the still sleeping Grantaire, but because of how close they were it ended up looking like two sides of the same person. It summed up their relationship perfectly. Of course, Jehan made sure to keep the one with Eponine in away from her and Combeferre, but Cosette and Musichetta demanded he send it in an email to them for blackmailing purposes.

"Is that a grey cloud?" Marius asked as he eventually rejoined the group after stretching his legs. They had all been in the park for over four hours by now, and the sun was starting to dip behind clouds that had not been there when they had started their adventure.

"I haven't got a coat," Cosette worried, rubbing the tops of her arms. It hadn't got that much cooler, but the thought of cold rain was enough to get her mind to play tricks on her.

"My hair's going to be ruined!" Courfeyrac complained. Everyone ignored him.

"It'll take us a while to get back home," Enjolras sighed, standing up and making sure he had everything in his possession. "We should start heading back, just in case it does start raining."

"Sounds like a plan," Bahorel smiled, standing up himself whilst trying to dust off all the dirt that he'd accumulated over the day.

"We'll follow," Grantaire shrugged, but didn't make a big deal about his agreement. Enjolras had stared at him for a while, but their eyes never met.

The walk back to their block of flats was, for the most part, uneventful. Everyone was still half asleep and hot from their mid-afternoon naps in the sunshine, so walking was using more energy than usual. Thankfully it wasn't as sunny as before, so there were more spots of shade for them to revel and slow down in along the way. The only thing that brought a bit of excitement into it was the sudden realisation that Gavroche had gone missing. They suggested splitting up to search for him, but Eponine had pointed out that her brother had joined the group of his own accord and had simply left on the same principle.

"Don't you think you should worry about him a little more?" Combeferre asked, placing a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder, but it seemed that the guide had gone a little astray this time.

"I worry about him all the time, and you know that," Eponine shouted, swatting the hand away and causing the patrol to come to a halt, even though they were in the middle of a still busy Queensway high-street. "He's used to this area by now, even though he doesn't live around here with us, but I know he's safe."

"Eponine, I didn't-"

"I know you didn't," she sighed, rubbing her forehead with one hand before patting his shoulder. "I know you think too much. It's just been a long day, so having to worry about Gavroche is something I can't deal with right now. I'll make sure to ring him later, okay?"

"If that's what you want."

After the little spike in excitement, the Amis remained awkwardly quiet. They weren't far from their home, so upon entering had mumbled their goodbyes and thanks for the fun day out before splitting off.

The calm before the storm can be deceptive.


	7. Storm Factor 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jehan's Jenga topples, Grantaire wears an alice band, and Eponine gets changed.

Jehan was quieter than usual when he and Courfeyrac entered their apartment. Sometimes after a large gathering, he needed a little bit of time to himself to recharge his batteries before becoming sociable again, but he didn't completely ignore Courfeyrac at these times. The first thing he did this time was put the remaining orange juice in the fridge and head for his room.

"You alright?" Courfeyrac verbally stopped Jehan in his tracks, looking both confused and worried.

"I'm _fine_ , Courf," Jehan stressed, the contradiction causing one of his room-mate's eyebrows to rise. The blonde turned around, delicate hands in emasculate fists, but shoulders shaking from the holding back of tears. He'd been bottling this up for so long that he had been surprised they hadn't argued in the park as well. "I'm not as weak as you think. I can look after myself most of the time. I was fine before I met you."

"Jehan, you weren't fine," Courfeyrac bit his lip, trying not to go back to the times where all the boy would do was sit in a corner and write poetry on anything, with _anything_. Enjolras had been the one to read some of the poetry that Jehan had inscribed on some walls near his home and saw the burning passion that was inside the meek looking boy. "You still have the trouble of keeping most things to yourself."

"Well, I don't feel the desire to say everything that comes to mind. I don't think people need to know every little thing about me, unlike _some_ people."

"You think I show everything about myself?" Courfeyrac laughed, leaning against the doorframe and folding his arms. This conversation was getting less concerning and more infuriating, and it took a lot to make Courfeyrac angry with his friends.

"The amount of times I've seen you in your underwear is a good example of how okay you are with sharing."

"That's because I'm fine with sharing things with my friends. I've known you all for so long now that you might as well be family."

"I don't think I'd walk around half naked around my family."

"Different people do different things, Jehan. I'm okay with showing off my body, because I'm okay with it. There're things that I'm not okay with sharing, and you know that."

The argument came to an abrupt halt with Courfeyrac's statement, leaving him steely eyed and unwavering but Jehan shaking from frustration. Jehan wasn't as fragile as everyone made him out to be, but the Jenga game he was playing with everything that had been going on lately had finally collapsed, toppling atop Courfeyrac.

"I know that, and I'm sorry. I'm just fed up with the fact that that people feel the need to protect me all the time, yet it's my fault that they feel that way. Yes, people push me around quite a bit, but I can't stop them. I'm not as strong as Enjolras, not as clever as Combeferre, and I'm nowhere near as confident as you. You all have your roles in the group. The leader. The guide. The centre. What am I? I'm the mess."

"You're the one who keeps us going," Courfeyrac beamed, reaching out and taking the man's hand to press a small kiss onto fingertips. "Yes, you do often go off into your own little world, but we all love that. We're all grounded in the real world, our hopes and dreams having slowly been trampled over by the realities this world throws at us. But you show us that if we keep going, we can salvage them. You're the one to offer us a smile, to show us a way forward that we could never see."

"Courf..." Jehan started, but there were no words. They all had their own problems, their own battles. They were a group of friends, united to try and make the world they lived in a better place for everyone. But that world was not there yet. In the meantime, they still all had to put up with the dismal day-to-day depressions that they were fighting against. Some people took it better than others, and the best person Jehan knew for managing to continue with a joke and a smile for everyone was Courfeyrac.

"So, can I ask again?"

"Ask what?"

"You alright?"

"Yeah," Jehan replied, this time with a smile.

There was now a different tension between them. Jehan had caught Courfeyrac's nervous swallow and slightly red cheeks after smiling, which then brought a darker crimson to his own cheeks. Heartbeat pummelled against his chest, realising that his hand was still in the middle of Courfeyrac's. The brunette gave it a small squeeze, this time bringing the knuckles to his lips for a much longer, warmer kiss. All Jehan knew is that he wanted the lips to be on his own instead of the back of his hand, but after unloading a lot of his emotions, he didn't want to have to think about Courfeyrac's possible responses to a confession.

* * *

Whilst some fights can simmer but stop before they completely boil over, this was never the case between Grantaire and Enjolras. Even though everyone assumed that their fight from the park was over, it didn't mean that it wasn't finished behind closed doors.

Grantaire had hoped that it was over, wanting to go back into his room and continue the final painting for his small exhibition the following weekend, but the slam of the front door and loud fumbling of the lock by Enjolras was the sign that it wasn't.

"En, I'm busy, I don't have-"

"Oh, so now you're the one who doesn't have time. Seems like we're being a little hypocritical today. Oh, wait, you're always like this," Enjolras' mouth curled up into a smile, but it dropped, along with his eyebrows, to show that he wasn't joking. "There's just something about you that makes you want to be the exception to the rule, isn't there?"

"An exception to what rule?" Grantaire sighed, annoyance already back in his voice as he collapsed into the sofa. They were going to be here for a while, so he decided to get comfortable for a change.

"To life in general. You think that if every now and again you do something to help someone else, instead of focusing on yourself, that everything will be balanced in your life."

"I don't think that at all!"

"You act like that's what you think," Enjolras pointed out, taking off his waistcoat and pushing one of Grantaire's red alice bands through his fringe to get it out of the way. He did pause for a moment to take a drink, allowing his room-mate to plead his case, but when there was nothing but silence, he continued, "You hang around, always belittling the things the rest of us believe in. What I believe in. You try to make up for it with these... These little moments of helping out, but it's just so you don't feel guilty."

"I feel no guilt for having differing opinions to you," Grantaire finally engaged with him, standing up so they were toe to toe. So much for staying comfortable. "Yeah, so I don't really care about what you're going on about half of the time. Well, more than half of the time, if I'm honest. But you already know this. When the straws were pulled, you didn't have to stick with the decision. Everyone looks up to you, our precious leader," he scoffed, but the words didn't taste bitter between his lips. He could see Enjolras' temper rising, waiting to lash out once more, but Grantaire wasn't finished. "You didn't have to stick with me. You could have had anyone else by your side, someone who has the same beliefs as you."

"We said that there would be no second draws."

"You could have overthrown it. They might have complained for a while, yes, but in the end respected your decision. Because they look up to you. Do you want to know why I didn't suggest this at the time?"

Enjolras remained silent.

"Because I look up to you. Do you know how depressing it is to see the world as it really is, but don't have the passion to change anything about it? Whereas you, Enjolras... You see every little detail and want to change every single thing," he finished, tone flat but a small smile on his features. The brunette turned to head for his bedroom, but the leader couldn't let it go.

"You're an idiot," Enjolras barked, slamming a fist against the wall. "If you just put down the bottle and started being a little more pro-active in life, then you'd see that there are things you can do. You just choose to ignore them, wallowing in your own self pity whilst we try to do things."

"Oh, you just couldn't let it drop, could you?" Grantaire groaned, continuing on his way to his art. "You want to win at everything, but you have to learn that losing a battle isn't always a bad thing."

"Of course I don't want to lose. Losing even one battle-"

"I'm not listening, Enjolras."

"Fine, just ignore me like you ignore everything else."

Grantaire finally made it into his bedroom, door firmly shut and trembles of anger carried by adrenaline still keeping him powerful. Even though they argued more often than not, it didn't mean that the artist had grown used to it. Every time they came to blows, all he wanted to do was push everything to one side and just try to get along, for once. They say opposites attract, but he knew that they were just too different. A revolutionary and a cynic. One world filled with glorious hope and battles for victory; the other burdened with crushing reality and struggles to survive.

* * *

The top floor didn't offer a respite for arguments either.

"Eponine, just listen to me," Combeferre groaned, a heavy sigh punctuating his otherwise hidden distress.

"Do you know what? No," Eponine turned to him, pushing back strands of hair that flew into her face from the speed of the motion. "You think you have all of the answers, but there's some times where you just don't get it. There's a difference between practical knowledge and social knowledge."

"Epi-"

"Don't ' _Epi_ ' me," she spat, hands on her hips after throwing her work bag onto the sofa.  "It's not going to work right now."

"So you admit it usually works?"

"Sarcasm is really not going to work either, Combeferre. I'm sick of you having all these book smarts, and then not being able to see when there are subjects that people don't want to talk about."

"You were the one who asked me to be more straight-forward with what I thought around you," the guide bit this inside of his lip, keeping himself composed and within himself.

"Yes, around _me_. Not when we're with the others. It's bad enough that Cosette and Musichetta know, even worse that Gavroche knows, but I'm not ready for everyone else to know yet. What's that got to do with you pushing me about Gavroche? It's the fact that you doubted me."

"I didn't doubt you. I just wanted to know if you were alright."

"You doubted my emotions as a sister. You didn't think I worried about my brother enough. The one person that I swore to protect, and you thought that I couldn't do it. Not only did you do this, you did this to me in-front of all of our friends!" Her tears tainted the anger that was in her voice, and also the look on her face. She was mad at Combeferre for bringing up insecurities she had only talked to him about, but also annoyed at the fact he didn't seem to realise this.

"I'm only going to say this once," Combeferre stepped forward, keeping a small distance between him and the anger filled 'girlfriend', and started to say his piece. "I slipped. Everyone makes a mistake once in a while. And don't even think about denying that. I knew that you've been worrying about your brother more and more these days, so seeing you so nonchalantly ignoring the fact that he'd disappeared without even saying goodbye to any of us irked me a little. You've opened up to me, instead of hiding everything away in that little body of yours, so I just wanted to know how you felt."

"You could have waited. You always wait until we're alone before you ask these questions. You didn't discuss Enjolras' emotions about his newest fight with R in front of everyone else."

"That's because Enjolras practically dragged me away from everyone before I could even ask him about anything. I'm there for people, for anyone who needs it. I was just being there for you."

"I didn't ask you to be there for me, did I?"

"Isn't being 'more than friends' another phrase for being there for someone? Friends are there for each other, after all."

"I..." Eponine started but, as usual, Combeferre seemed to have the right words. Even though she had just criticised him for not having any social skills, the brunette had to admit that he had a few from time to time. Not when it came to everything, but mostly when it came to her.

"We all slip up from time to time, but I can be there for you."

"Just... whatever," she groaned, sitting down next to her bag and tugging at a few of the buttons of her over-shirt to reveal a black tank-top. "I'm tired, it's still hot, and now I'm not just worrying about Gavroche.

"I'm worrying about us."


	8. Perfectly Imperfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jehan steps up to the plate and Courfeyrac takes a leaf from Jehan's anthology.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although it's April 1st, nothing in this chapter is an April fools: it's just a coincidence, I promise!

Jehan didn't have much time to run through all the possibilities to a number of different scenarios, seeing as he got lost in the first (and best) one. Another reason was because Courfeyrac was now kissing the palm of his hand and didn't look like stopping any time soon.

"C-Courf, you're forgiven, you can stop now," Jehan stumbled, trying to tug his hand back into his possession.

"Forgiven? Didn't realise I was looking for forgiveness," the other chuckled, letting Jehan have his hand back, but fingers traced his lips soon after to make sure the warmth was both real and still there.

"Just doing something on your own accord again?"

"Well, you weren't stopping me, so I thought I could go a little further than usual," Courfeyrac smiled, but Jehan could see the slight shake in those parted lips.

Jehan had learned to take notice of each of Courfeyrac's smallest movements to piece together the whole picture, since the brunette was someone who always wanted to keep a smile on his face, lighten up the whole situation, but also in times like these, hold a few things back. It was true that he was still a little nervous from having his hand kissed, but Jehan needed to use a bit of the courage he'd picked up from his room-mate and use it as an advantage.

"Courf, there is something that I might need help with."

"Oh?"

Courfeyrac was unprepared for the help he was about to give, but as Jehan's face started to near his own, he was completely okay with the outcome.

It was a tiny, feather-light kiss, almost an accidental brushing of lips, but the brunette was supposed to be helping; this meant taking both Jehan's cheeks in the cups of his hands so he couldn't pull away, bringing their lips into a much firmer affirmation of amorous affections. At least, he was hoping they were amorous. Jehan was one for wearing his heart on his sleeve, but often kept his true emotions hidden in the binding of his numerous notebooks. However, with the little bit of guidance, Jehan was once again the one in control of the kiss, seeing as Courfeyrac wanted to take a back seat and allow the poet's sweet kisses coat his lips so thoroughly he wondered if he could wax lyrical afterwards.

"I really like you," Jehan spoke, front teeth visibly pulling at the side of his lip in a nervous reaction.

"That was only really like?" Courfeyrac teased, moving his hands from the flushing red cheeks to shaking shoulders.

"Courfeyrac, that was really difficult-"

"I know. And I love you for that."

Jehan thought his heart had stopped. Terribly cliché, not the way he would put it in verse, but the haze of complications in his mind and constriction in his chest made it difficult to think of a more poetic way of putting it at that exact moment.

Of course, the moment soon passed as he started to come down from the initial dopamine rush, realising that this was Courfeyrac after all: his words of 'love' were just as common as his hellos and goodbyes.

"And yes," Courfeyrac chuckled, having felt Jehan's shoulder's sink and watched his drying lips purse. "I mean that in the way that I want you to be mine, not in the way that I love my coffee in the morning."

"You _want_ me?"

"Oh god, I thought it was starting to get too obvious and that you'd want to move out or something," the brunette chuckled, moving his hands back off Jehan's body and sliding them into his pockets. "After all, who wants to live with a room-mate that wants to jump your bones if you want nothing to do with them?"

"Jump my bones?" Jehan couldn't help but let out a small laugh, watching the other sink against the wall a little in embarrassment. "Well... I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Well, did you notice?"

"I... didn't, I'm sorry."

This time it was Courfeyrac who was laughing.

"What are you chuckling at?"

"You. I've been falling in love with you for a long time now, Jehan. You're probably the last one to know."

"Other people know you like me? You've told other people?" The blonde wasn't angry, but there was something in the fact that the confession he'd been idly dreaming about wasn't just between them that made him just a little sad.

"I didn't tell them outright, of course," Courfeyrac started to explain, moving towards the front room but keeping his eyes on Jehan, coaxing him to the sofas with his body language. "They found out because I was being too obvious. And because I started talking about you a whole lot more since we moved in together."

"Do the others know that I like you?" Jehan pondered, following the trail and curling up into his favourite position.

"Well, they kept saying that it was obvious that you liked me back, and that I didn't have to worry or anything," the brunette sighed, falling down next to Jehan but not moving into his personal space. "So that's a maybe?"

"You worried? You never worry about if people like you."

"I know, right?" Courfeyrac raised a questioning eyebrow, but settled into that deep, confident laugh Jehan had grown used to. "So when Enjolras and Combeferre noticed that I was complaining about why you didn't seem to be opening up to me as much as I wanted you to, they kind of made me notice that the seed that was already planted had grown bigger than I expected."

"That's rather poetic of you," Jehan smiled, shuffling a little closer to the other so that shoulders were touching. "Looks like I've rubbed off on you a little."

"Speak for yourself. I bet there's no way you would have kissed me if you hadn't met me."

"Well, I wouldn't be able to kiss you if I didn't know you, because I wouldn't have known you and fallen in love with you."

"Oh, so it's upgraded to love from really like now, has it?"

Jehan hadn't even noticed the word slip until Courfeyrac pointed it out, but was now covering his lips as the others curled into a smirk.

"I love you. A lot. A whole lot. I find myself unable to stop thinking about you, so most of my poetry has been about you. I wanted to say something for a long time, a really long time, but I couldn't. I was scared that you didn't want the same thing I wanted. You've had your share of flirtatious exploits with so many people, where I have resided myself into loving the love of the Romantic era. I've watched you kiss everyone... everyone but me."

"I've not kissed everyone," Courfeyrac interrupted the movie-like confession, earning himself a too often received, non-verbal, "Quiet, Courf," which he took on board by pushing tips of fingers to the width of his lips.

"I was really happy when we got put together, because it meant that I could see more of you. N-Not as in body wise, although that happened anyway, but... I always thought that if I lived with you, maybe I'd find so many flaws in you that I couldn't love you anymore. But I found flaws. But I loved them. No-one is perfect, after all. I'm a prime example of that."

"You're perfect to me. Imperfections and all."

"I really have rubbed off on you."

"Yeah, well... I want you to rub off on you a whole lot more," Courfeyrac sighed, wrapping an arm around Jehan's shoulders, and before he could squirm away initiated a much deeper kiss.

This one lasted a lot longer than the timid, confessional kiss they'd shared minutes before. It was full of Courfeyrac's desires that he'd locked up in order not to scare the object of his affections away, but the icing on the cake was Jehan starting to feel secure and comfortable, and stopping from trying to pull back. There was nothing romantically epic about the kiss; time didn't slow down, the sun didn't beam down onto the two of them, and angels didn't sing from the heavens. In fact, regardless of their past experiences with kisses, there were some awkward gasps and too-wide jaws.

But it helped Jehan understand Courfeyrac's previous statement. It was perfect.

Imperfections and all.


End file.
